It's 9 AM in my neck of the woods, and I hope you are having a great day, wherever you are! This chappie is in response to a prompt from the awesome junkiecat, who suggested, "Booth takes a run to clear his mind, he gets back and Brennan is making him breakfast—hello kitchen counter."

Ahhhhh!

-b&b-

There were two things Booth did really well, and being an FBI agent was the other one. He liked his life to have order—for the most part. But he wasn't the kind of guy who needed rules and regulations for every damn thing. They always seemed to get in the way of what really needed to be done. If he needed to fire his gun to kill some son of a bitch, he would. He didn't like it, but he'd do it. The 62-page 'account for every bullet' form to fill out was a bit unnecessary. But yeah…he did it. When he had to.

He liked rules that benefitted people, and he chafed against ones that annoyed him—same as any guy, he figured. What had him in a foul mood and on a five-mile run this morning was the meeting he had later that day with Human Resources…and a certain 3-page document currently filled out and waiting for him in the top drawer of his office desk.

The form had been blank for years. 'Disclosure of Interoffice Relationships', it said at the top.

It was a standard form given to all FBI agents when they joined, and Booth had filed his away, mentally under 'not needed', and alphabetically under 'D'.

Over the years, he'd taken the form out and looked at it a few times.

The first time had been the morning after he'd kissed Brennan outside that pool hall. He'd stared at the fine print, wondering if a Jeffersonian liaison counted as 'interoffice'. And wondering if a kiss counted as a 'relationship'. He'd re-filed it as quickly as he'd taken it out—especially after they'd fought.

And the form had remained in its place.

Once, years later, after she'd toasted to love, he'd taken it out and examined it. It was almost ridiculous, the questions on the form. If he was honest with himself, they'd been in a relationship for years—yet without anything official, the form remained blank. But on that day, he'd smiled and moved the form from "D" to "B", for Bones.

Now, Booth stopped at a stoplight and bent over at the waist to take a deep breath and keep his muscles loose. He remembered the way he'd taken it out and stared at it earlier that year—after the Eames case. The words on the page had taunted him, making him feel annoyed and foolish and confused. But as he shoved it back into the file, it still went into "B" and not "D", and that confused him too…so he tried not to think about it.

But a few days ago, he'd taken it out for the last time. It sat on his desk and when he filled it out, it only took 10 minutes. He shook his head and almost laughed at how easy it was to complete. If only everything else between them had been that simple.

As he started his run again and made his way back toward his apartment, he tried to plan for each possible reaction from HR…if they even reacted at all. He knew that he'd do whatever it took to keep the FBI from splitting him from Brennan—not that he expected them to. Their record was still impeccable…but it was still a chance. And the reality of that chance weighed on him.

By the time he reached his apartment, he was more tense, his thoughts doing nothing to soothe his anxiety. He jogged up the steps, peeled off his sweaty t-shirt, and keyed open the front door.

Instantly, he knew she was around. It had always been like that in their partnership, but when they were literally staying over at one another's places, it was more intense. Sure enough, she was standing near the sink, stirring what looked like some sort of batter. Most of the time, when he walked in to see her cooking, he just smiled, and placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck. But he was still too keyed up from his run, from his thoughts, from the potential falling out of the meeting he had later that morning. Instead of a soft kiss, he found himself wrapping his arms around her waist and scraping his teeth over the shell of one of her pretty ears. Damn, he was so fucking on edge.

"Booth," she breathed, and he barely noticed when she arched back against him.

"I love you, Bones," he rasped out, pressing hard kisses against her neck and chin. "So fucking much."

Her fingers linked into his at her hips and she arched against him again. "I love you too…" she told him as she turned her head to meet his lips with hers. She seemed surprised at his intensity, but she didn't comment on it.

Booth groaned and clenched her fingers like tiny vices. His mouth was rougher than normal, but she was giving just as good as he was. He was getting hard, or maybe he'd already been hard—he had no idea. All he knew now was that he was one step away from hiking his hands up her nightgown, peeling her panties off and shoving up into her until they both screamed. Holy shit!

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hands curving helplessly anyway over the warmth of her bare thighs. "I shouldn't—"

"It's fine," her voice was breathy, and her eyes wide. Her breasts were tight and pressed against her nightgown, her nipples hard and pointed. His mouth watered, and he wanted to bend over and suck her. She noticed his gaze and her breath hitched. He recognized that as arousal, but the information didn't quite make it from his brain to his mouth.

"No." He tried to calm down, but his erection pounded against his running shorts and her scent and soft skin were making it impossible for him to walk away. She was just so pretty, and perfect, and there was no fucking way anyone was ever going to separate them from one another. "I'm all sweaty. I should go shower."

"You can shower after," she shoved at his wrists and turned around, edging her fingers over the elastic waistband of his shorts. "You can't leave me like this."

Booth groaned in defeat and slid his hands inside her panties, cupping her bare bottom and lifting her to the counter. Her legs spread around him and he was lost. He shoved her nightgown up to her waist, and Brennan took the hem in her fingers and slid it up and over her breasts. She took his hands in hers and placed them over her curves, pressing until her tightening nipples nearly cut into his palms like hard diamonds. She tapped on his wrists. "Keep those there," she demanded and then skimmed her hands over his bare and slick chest and back down to the waistband of his shorts. He thought she might lower them, but first she just traced the outline of his hard dick through his shorts with the tips of her fingers.

Booth grunted at the muted pleasure and then knocked her hands away.

"Hey," she complained, but he silenced her by leaning down and covering her mouth with his. He shoved his shorts down and then used one hand to yank at her panties. Gravity took over and her cotton boyshorts were on the floor and he was back between her legs, the hard tip of his shaft nosing right to her entrance.

"You want sweaty sex, Bones?" he slid up and over her clit in one teasing move before burying himself deep in her wet pussy. "Oh, fuck…you're drenched. I guess so..." He answered his own question. He'd meant to tease her more, but at the feel of her wrapped around him, he couldn't do anything but start a needy little pound and retreat rhythm.

His hands slapped down onto the counter as his hips picked up velocity. Booth's hips were pistoning at a frantic pace, in and out of her snug little core. She was arching beneath him, needing more pressure, so he bent his knees a bit for better leverage. He moved his upper body down until his arms were flat on the counter from fingertip to elbow. His stomach and hips and thighs pressed against hers with every forward thrust. Brennan clutched him with her arms and legs, riding him from below. When Booth felt her come, he shoved deep into her and held still until she was done spasming around him.

Then he gripped her hips and yanked her from the counter until her feet were on the floor. He flipped her around, and pulled her nightgown up and over her head. "Hands on the cupboards, Bones," he demanded, tapping on her elbows until her fingers were pressed against the cabinets at eyelevel. He wrapped his arms around her waist, used one foot to nudge her thighs apart and then rocked back into her, groaning at the way she was still twitching in hot, wet, small spasms. "Oh yeah," he grunted and pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder.

"Nothing's ever gonna break us apart, Bones," he promised, more to himself than to her at that point, as he rocked up and into her over and over. He felt the incredible pressure between his balls and his ass, and he ran his hand down over her belly until his fingers were rubbing against her clit, just like he knew she liked it. "Nothing. Ever," he chanted over and over.

"Yes," she rose to her tiptoes with her orgasm, and he gripped her hips, piledriving into her from behind until he exploded with thick, ropy shots of release deep into her body.

His chest heaved with every breath he took, and he stared straight ahead, his eyes nearly unseeing from the force of his orgasm. His mind felt fuzzy, and then he noticed Brennan slump a bit to the kitchen counter. Summoning up as much energy as he could, he turned her in his arms and met her eyes. Her gaze was stunned, but satisfied, and he saw a question in the blue depths. Her fingers traced his face, and then he leaned forward and caught her lips in a searing kiss…feeling like he should have started with that.

But she wasn't complaining, and he recalled the way she'd come, twice, all over him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. "Shower with me," he murmured, and she nodded, moving away from him to start the water. Booth ran a finger down the length of her spine, and when she turned and smiled at him, he followed her into the shower.

"Your meeting is today, right?" she asked as she poured body wash in her hands and pressed them to his chest, lazily soaping him up.

Booth gently cupped her hips and nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she offered. "After all, it is both of us in this relationship."

"Nah," he smiled at her and tugged her close. "I'll be fine. I'll call you after." He stared at her, and she noticed. When he didn't say anything else, her eyebrows rose.

"What?" she asked, tracing her fingers over his chest and shoulders.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just…we're not just partners anymore, Bones."

She smiled and cupped his biceps in her hands. "Maybe officially, but…I think it's been a long time since we were just partners."

"Yeah," Booth acknowledged and leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. "If we ever even were just partners."

They both smiled and kissed, knowing that no matter what happened, they were going to be fine…together.

-b&b-